


Fairy Bread

by Kat



Series: A soul that's born in cold and rain [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:24:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20924870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat/pseuds/Kat
Summary: Wherein Roadhog is sick and Junkrat is amused. Can be slash if you squint.





	Fairy Bread

Junkrat leaned up, hands pressed to the small of his back as he stretched. His spine popped and he sighed. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been there, bent over the work table, shoulders curled as he fiddled with one of his mines but his stomach was growling and his back ached so it had to have been some hours. He squinted up at the sliver of sky he could see through the window high above. Dim - maybe cloudy, maybe twilight. Hard to tell. 

He tilted his head to one side, then the other and his neck cracked too. “Oi, Roadie - left me any food, ya big lug?” He might forget to eat, but his Hog surely never did which meant there was usually something to be scrounged up whenever he emerged from the workroom. 

No one answered his shout. Odd. He scratched his head absently - had Roadhog said anything about going out? He cast his thoughts back, attempting to remember. Lessee… he’d woken up in the middle of the night, Hog’d been snoring like thunder and while it usually didn’t bother him, he couldn’t fall back asleep. Can’t sleep, might as well work so he’d come in here and started doodling up a new design for one of the concussion mines. Between then and now? A tangle of wires and sparks in his thoughts. No Roadhog. Huh.

He stood, unsteady on his foot and prosthetic for a second as his hips protested the new position. Damn body, never doing what you want. His stomach decided to get in on the action, twisting and growling loud as Roadie’s snores. “All right all right quit yer whinging,” he told it and step-tapped down the hall to find food or his partner, whichever came first.

The shadows had gathered in the hallway and spread into the living room. No Roadhog. The kitchen was empty - no delicious smells. And no Roadhog. He tugged open a cabinet and was rewarded with a few slightly stale chips at the bottom of a bag. He tipped them into his mouth and continued his search, chewing. He was beginning to think he’d forgotten something Roadie’d told him while he was working. 

“Dammit, Hoggie - ya know I don’t hear a thing when I’m in the middle. Where’d you head off to? Better not be tryin’ to pull a job without me to back you up.” He shoved open the bedroom door, last possible place and, of course, there he was, stretched out on the bed, book propped up on his belly. Even through the mask, Junkrat felt his irritated stare. 

“There ya are, ya bugger. Gonna laze the day away?” Never one to be put off by Roadhog’s mood, Junkrat crossed the room and plopped down on the edge of the bed. “‘M starving. Nothing to eat in the place. Let’s hit the takeaway, yeah?” He tugged Roadie’s arm, but it was no good. He didn’t move. Junkrat frowned. “Not in the mood for Chinese? Didn’t think that was possible. All right, how ‘bout we see if the Korean market’s open?” Not that it mattered if it weren’t - they’d just help themselves and be on their way.

Suddenly Roadhog rocked forward, curling into himself, and an odd squelching sound burst from behind his mask. The book slid to the floor with a thump. 

“The fuck? Did you just _ sneeze _, mate?” 

“Most people say bless you.” His voice was distorted by the mask, but it sounded rougher, even, than usual.

“Right, or gazoontite!” A laugh bubbled through him. “But yeah, bless ya, Hoggie.” Rat patted his arm, still chuckling.

Roadhog huffed what might have been a sigh, but then it wavered, hitched and he shuddered into another sneeze.

“Bless ya. Done?”

A sharp shake of his head, another sneeze. 

Junkrat frowned. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Roadie sneeze, and he was sure not so many times in a row. “Sounds like ya got the wog.”

“Leave it, Rat. Just need to sleep it off.” His breath was hitching again and he pressed the back of his hand to the mask snout, as though that would do any good. 

“Here, I’ll help.” Junkrat scrambled off the bed. “Gotta be some tissues around somewhere.” He finally discovered a rather battered box under the bed. “Victory!” Back on the bed, he reached behind Roadhog to unbuckle his mask. “Let me,” he said, as though Roadie’d actually said anything. “Can’t sneeze proper with your face all squashed.” He carefully lay it on the side table, then held the tissues up to Roadhog’s face. “Blow.”

For a long minute Roadhog just looked at him, eyes damp and Junkrat wanted to shiver from the intensity of his focus. Then, as though the chill was catching, he shivered too and lurched forward, sneezing into the handful of tissues Junkrat held. 

“_ Chuu!” _ A gasp, another, harder, “ _ Chu!” _

The incongruity of the tiny sneeze from such a big person nudged another laugh from Junkrat. “That’s yer sneeze?” 

“Shut it,” Roadhog rasped.

“But it’s _ cute! _” If there was one thing Roadhog *wasn’t*, it was cute. No one, other than Rat, maybe, could say that and live. And yet here he was, still alive and still laughing as Roadhog snatched up another fistful of tissues and blew his nose. “And bless ya.” Rat leaned up, pressed a hand to Hog’s forehead. “Least no fever.”

“I’m ok. Don’t want you to get sick, Rat. Just let me sleep.” He leaned back against the pillows, sniffling and looking vaguely unfocused. And sneezy. And tired. 

Junkrat waved away his comment. “I _ never _ get sick.” He considered - what did someone need when they were sick? “Want me to heat ya a tin of soup? Might be some juice not gone off yet…” He looked at Hog hopefully. 

“Nah, thanks.”

Junkrat tapped a finger against his chin. Tea - no one could say no to tea. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” He giggled to himself. As if. 

It only took a bit of rummaging to find cleanish mugs. Tea bags. A bit of honey. Then, remembering last time he’d been feeling down - Hog’d brought him the nicest snack. What had he called it? Fairy bread… Fortunately the loaf of bread hadn’t gone stale and he managed to find both butter and the rainbow sprinkles. If this didn’t make his Hog feel better nothing would.

Roadhog hadn’t moved so much as a muscle while he was gone. The book lay abandoned on the floor. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t snoring and as Junkrat set the try down on the bedside table without spilling a drop of tea or losing even a slice of bread, Roadhog looked at him in surprise.

“What’s this?”

“What’s it look like? Tea in bed for the sickie. Can’t have you wasting away now can we?” 

Roadhog wheezed what passed for a laugh. “Thanks, Rat.” He hesitated for a second then, “Join me?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” 

  



End file.
